My body has lost its mind! So I guess I shouldn’t be alive. But I am… I’m alive and well and drinking coffee twice a week at my friendly neighborhood Village Inn Restauraunt while working remotely because my body’s lungs have decided they’re allergic to the building I’ve worked in for the past year and a half. I’ve been on a waiting list to see an allergist for approximately a month to see about treatment. The even better news is that I’m allergic to my home environment as a result of prolonged exposure to my hyper-allergic work environment (dust basically) and now I’m a nomad.
So, some thing I’ve been around my whole life (dust) has suddenly, at the age of 41, truly become life threatening to me. Immediately following any encounter with dust of any type, the skin on my face crawls as if swarmed by 1 million tiny, tiny bugs; my nose begins to burn, my skin itches and then my lungs burn and basically shut down for business while I wheeze and gasp for air.
So while I’m sure I’m not dying, it certainly feels like it whenever I breathe in DUST. It’s heinous!
Village has been a YUGE blessing. I mean, where has this restaurant been all my life? I roll up in the morning and request an electric table (one w/ electrical outlets) and nice servers bring me my very own pot of coffee, a plate of hash browns, happy, upbeat music plays in the background (at a seriously PERFECT volume) and I just type and click away on projects and answer emails. It’s a dream!
I think the servers are used to crackhead-sorts? So they’re super cool with me. And they are certainly used to serving sicklies (as the restaurant is located directly across the street from a hospital) and they help keep a close eye on Monster (my baby Mustang 5.0) sitting all alone in public parking undeservedly (I mean, Monster did NOTHING to deserve displacement! NOTHING! Monster doesn’t deserve sitting in the hot sun of a strange parking lot. Subject to strange cars and birds and other car doors. Dear Lord, I’m Sorry, Monster! I’m So SORRY! I LOVE YOU!) But the Village Inn staff know I’ve never had a new muscle car and are pretty adamant about keeping me level… So it’s all good.
Anyway, to my peeps at Village Inn, you guys are my family now. You’re my peeps… I almost dread getting well and never seeing you. Thank you for listening to my allergenic TMI stories. Thank you for treating me like I’m the sickliest person in the history of time. Thank you for bringing me hot coffee. Thank you for loving my Mustang. Thank you for being a league of extraordinary people. And thank you for re-assuring me each time you see me that I’m in fact likely NOT dying; my body is not losing its mind; other people have suffered allergies and lived on to experience happy lives. And, definitely, thank you for reminding me that it’s okay to eat greasy hash browns with Louisiana Hot Sauce and order diet Coke AND coffee AND water all at the same time when you’re sick